The Cold, Cold Ground
by McMerlark
Summary: Shopping, an easy enoough task? Not for Tim... Warning: Death Fic! R&R! Just a wee one-shot.


English Essay- The Fight Rowan Johnston

Lying in the wet, cold snow was a man. Bruised, battered and dark red blood seeping on the white ground, he looked more like a human shaped plum than a man. Blaring sirens cut through the silence as the snow fell thickly around him. How did he get there? Why was he so sore? Thoughts danced around in his head, but no answers to them arose. He was briefly aware that someone was talking to him, but he didn't have the strength to reply. The blackness was tugging at him, so with one last pain-filled gasp; he gave into the dark abyss.

The man, otherwise known as Timothy McGee, was walking to the grocer's to get some food. Simple enough, but everything can go wrong at some point. He walked with spring in his step. His day had gone well, and for once, he was let off early from work. The weather forecast said there was to be a massive snowstorm later on in the day, so he was glad to get home while it was still clear. Snowflakes were slowly falling as he walked the short distance to the local shops. He figured "Why not buy food now, so I don't have to buy it during the snowstorm?" It seemed to be sound logic at the time, but little did he know, that someone had been following him the whole way…

Trailing slowly behind, was a man called Sam Rockwell. A junkie and an alcoholic from the start of his measly teenage years, he was on the prowl, looking for the money for his next fix. And the man he was tailing right now, well he certainly had a lot of money. Thom E. Gemcity. The best-selling author of 2008, and the writer of the well-known series "Deep Six", was right in front of him. One might be excited, but Sam just needed his money, and he would do anything to get it. Even Kill. He had his gun; a black Sig Saur, silencer in place. No need to attract unwanted attention was there? He was all prepared. Now he just a need a plan of attack.Literary.

Just as Tim reached the front of the store, he heard a loud cry from behind him. He turned abruptly and found a man that had slipped on the already forming layer of snow. He rushed back to help, being careful that he himself didn't tripped and helped the man up.

"Are you okay?" he asked the man, concern evident in his voice. The reply that came chilled him to the bone.

"I sure am now…Thom," Sam answered, an evil grin upon his face. Suddenly Tim was pushed back into an alleyway behind him. He lost his footing and tumbled to the ground, where he watched Sam walk closer. Questions raced through his mind.

"Who was the guy? How does he know who I am?" For this was not a case of mistaken identity, no. Thom E. Gemcity was in fact the alter-ego of one Timothy McGee. Sometimes having two identities was a blessing and a curse! Sam walked towards him slowly, his eyes unfocussed and his hands twitching. He had obviously just come off his last fix. This would be tricky.

"You don't want to do this…" Tim started, but was cut off when Sam kicked him in the stomach.

"Shut up, Thom," Sam sneered, spitting out his name like in was dirt in his mouth. "You don't know what I want. I want your money, mate, but not just the cash you have on you, no. I want it ALL." During his speech, Rockwell had pulled out his gun and was waving it around above his head. Timothy eyed it from the ground, hand place protectively across his gut.

"You know I can't do that but I can get you the help you need and…"

"I don't need no help Thom!" he punctuated every one with a sharp kick to the body on the ground. McGee was clearly writhing in pain on the floor as the kicks got harder. He positioned the gun over McGee, but held it with surprising stillness. "Just give me the money."

"I can't do…" A quiet THWIP rang out, and a loud cry was heard after. The pain shot through Tim with speed like a race car but the force of a truck. Barely comprehending what had happened, he moved his hand to his stomach and found it to be slick with blood. Footsteps were heard, running away as a loud clatter sounded behind him. He was aware of damp spots landing all over him, and the deep silence that surrounded him. He felt… at peace here somehow, like arriving home after a long spell away. His life was draining away, but he felt calm and peaceful, as if knowing this was the end. He didn't fight the pain, merely letting it wash over him. Voices were heard, but he ignored them. He gave into the darkness, and death welcomed him back like an old friend.

Timothy McGee/ Thom E. Gemcity was pronounced dead on scene at 0732.


End file.
